


TIE-Poelet

by Davechicken



Series: The Pilot and his Knight [98]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-26 15:37:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10789593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: Poe goes undercover.





	1. Chapter 1

“Ky… would you check I’m not missing something obvious?”  


“I didn’t really pay much attention to the intricacies of wardrobes,” he bites back, a little more sharply than he meant to.   


“Ky - do you want me to get changed over in the hangar?”  


“No, I…” He’s being ridiculous. He knows that. It’s just a uniform, and it’s just a _cover_ , but the thought of seeing Poe in First Order grey makes his stomach churn.  


The thought that - in some possible universe - his husband could _believe_ in that, could sign his life to the evil that is the Order…

(Because, at the heart of it, Kylo knows there’s some sense in what the Order thinks. Remove that bastard Snoke and they become… understandable, in some ways. It’s complicated.)

He walks into the bedroom, where Poe is wearing the greys of command. Sharp, smooth lines. Shiny boots. Pressed creases. Neat angles. Stiff fabric.

It is both attractive and repulsive. He knows just _wearing_ this won’t magically change Poe’s entire mindset, but he will be around all those people, and to keep his cover intact he might have to _do_ things, and…

Kylo nods, shakily, and blinks at the worry in his eyes, trying to find any hint of imperfection, knowing it could save his lover’s life. “You look… right,” he chokes out.

“It’s only for a month,” Poe says, his own voice cracking. “Two, tops.”  


“I know.”  


“I wouldn’t go if it wasn’t important.”  


“I know that, too.”  


Poe looks down. He rarely looks embarrassed or ashamed, but he does right now. It’s _fictional_. It’s for the greater good. So why does it feel so bad?

“I wish I could go instead,” Kylo mumbles. “They don’t know my face.”  


“Enough of them do.”  


“Hux. No one else.”  


“You can’t go, Ky.”  


“I know. But I still want to.” He’d do anything to keep Poe safe, but Poe would do the same for him. “You’ll do fine.”  


Kylo fully intends to burn that uniform the minute Poe gets home. 


	2. Chapter 2

Poe’s been gone for weeks. _Weeks_. A month and a half already (not that Kylo is counting in days and hours, nope). He’s sent back a few coded transmissions, but they’ve all been professional only. There’s too much risk in sending anything personal, or in sending more data than is strictly necessary.

Still, every time he checks in with his handler, Kylo is notified. A simple message on his comm, a ‘he’s still alive’, and nothing more.

Alive, and transmitting. Which must mean ‘free’, or as free as anyone pretending to espouse the First Order rhetoric could ever be.

Kylo is worried. Not because he thinks Poe would ever _fall_ for that Human-glorifying, xenophobic, fascist propaganda, but because it must be incredibly difficult for him to be there. To bite his tongue and toe the party line. To either bond with people who are prepared to do horrible things, or to remain isolated. To watch them be indoctrinated, little by little, because to remove the scales from their eyes would be to risk the whole Resistance…

Fuck, but he wishes he were home.

Kylo pulls the cushion to his chest, tucking it under his chin, curling his knees up around it. It’s not the same as cuddling Poe, and he aches in his gut, because he isn’t _here_. His smell lingers on the pillows, his toothbrush lies dry on the basin, but he isn’t _here_.

There’s a soft whirr from under the couch, and Kylo sees the small astromech droid rocking back and forth, as if trying to comfort itself. 

“I know, BB. He’ll be okay.”  


_Whirr-whirr-be-cheep._

“Okay, but don’t tell him.”  


He uses the Force, because he’s lying down as it is, and he floats the droid up and onto his lap. It’s a little awkward, and he has to press his soles together, scooting them to his butt to make a little dip for the droid to settle in. BB-8 continues to rock, then ‘lies’ down on his chest, on the cushion. 

Kylo’s arms slide around the unit, and he feels the very faint vibrations as the droid tries to purr. Of course Poe’s astromech is the most caring, gentle thing ever soldered together, of _course_.

“I know the people he’s around, BB. I know them… I know what they’re capable of. I know what he has to do, and I know _why_ , but I wish it didn’t have to be him.”  


The droid points out that everyone in the Resistance regularly has to do scary things, but that Poe is very good at them, and always comes home safely. That they aren’t _all_ bad (like him, and Finn), and that they can worry together.

Worry together. Because neither of them can _not_ worry. Kylo prangs at BB-8′s antenna, gently teasing it. “You’re right. He _is_ very brave, and strong. I just… will be happy when it’s all over.”

_Bee-bee-hrchhh-ppp._

“It won’t be long. Not now.”  


_Hrrrrr-tttttt._


End file.
